


Right Here

by amongcloudsandstars



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, First Time, Fluff, Human, M/M, Morning After, Other, Romantic Fluff, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Trans Aziraphale (Good Omens), Trans Character, Trans Male Character, a little bit less than 6000 years, but there was some pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 04:50:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amongcloudsandstars/pseuds/amongcloudsandstars
Summary: Now the cold feeling was dissipating and his consciousness could focus on the elephant - or alternatively, the cute boy - in the room. The memories of the previous night came flooding, Nothing has been planned, they were just going to watch a movie, and Crowley was considering himself lucky he could get away with holding Aziraphale’s hand. He had seen the signs, but he was uncertain if they were only wishful thinking from his part.They are humans, barely 20 years old. Just started dating, just had sex. This is not an explicit work. Just Crowley thinking about them and their thing and getting the feels. Very soft.





	Right Here

**Author's Note:**

> So as always when I start go get into a fandom I basically create tons of plots of fics in my head that never see the light of day  
However, one of these days I was listening to a song and this came into my head, first as an image, then the backstory (that maybe will become another work of its own)  
The music is After The Last Midtown Show by The Academy Is…  
The title is also from the song.  
Hope y’all enjoy it, if you do kudos and comments are always welcome.

Crowley didn’t much wake up, as he felt awakeness coming closer, sensing the fringe that separates reality from dreams. In that moment he realized he was cold, his skin exposed to the late autumn breeze. _Completely_ exposed. No clothes, no blankets. Slowly, he opened his eyes, searching for something to cover himself with, his eyes landed on the figure beside him. Aziraphale was lying, naked as well, but clutching all the sheets and blankets to himself in a ball of fabric between his body and the wall. Crowley tried to find something he could grab, but there was no use, the blonde beside him left nothing.  
Then he saw, in the other side of Aziraphale’s bedroom, a cardigan made of blue wool he knew too well, draped over the armchair. Sighing - and accepting the fact that he wasn’t going back to sleep so soon - he got up from the single bed and took the cardigan, sat in the comfortable and worn chair, and wrapped the cardigan around himself.

Now the cold feeling was dissipating and his consciousness could focus on the elephant - or alternatively, the cute boy - in the room. The memories of the previous night came flooding, Nothing has been planned, they were just going to watch a movie, and Crowley was considering himself lucky he could get away with holding Aziraphale’s hand. He had seen the signs, but he was uncertain if they were only wishful thinking from his part.  
They knew each other since kids, but got distant and haven’t talked since middle school. And they grew to be so different, hanging with completely opposite friends. Crowley felt kinda guilty but never knew how to act about it.

  
After graduation, they started working together in the local bookstore. At first Aziraphale would be polite but cold towards him, it wasn’t until a couple months in that they started to get along. That’s when he offered a ride to Aziraphale (the guy was walking home alone and it was late, he was genuinely worried). He had the nerve to tell him he was going “too fast”. Their neighbourhood was safe, but Crowley, being gay himself, knew how cruel people could be, even worse with trans guys. He saw some customers from the store giving Aziraphale the weirdest looks. So despite the crush (that was already there, he would admit now), his intentions were the best.

  
So when things started getting better and they started to get closer, well, he didn’t want to get much of his hopes up. The thing is - they were so different from each other, complete opposites. All the music he listened to Aziraphale hadn’t even heard of, sticking to classical composers and Broadway musicals. Aziraphale wore bow ties and button-ups and vests, while he preferred leather jackets and worn t-shirts. And as their conversations got deeper and they started to really get to know each other, the differences only grew bigger - Aziraphale believed God had a plan for everyone and trusted blindly in this so called “Plan”, while Crowley thought the only rule in the universe was chaos. However, despite their differences, or even because of them, they were only getting closer. Their talks about everything and nothing at all lasted for hours, stopping at the arrival of customers, and resuming when they left, in a long list of arguments that had no real intention to convince one another, only to share their points of view.

  
Sometimes their conversations would be about something that reminded Aziraphale of a certain book (and he had read a lot of those) and he would start talking about it, not realizing that he was monopolizing the conversation. Crowley didn’t mind, in that moment Aziraphale would get so excited and his blue eyes would get so bright, he would talk fast, and his face so expressive, be it with joy, or just any emotion to convey the story he was telling him. That amused Crowley the most, and was in a moment like that that he realized how fond he was of the other boy. That’s how Anthony J. Crowley found himself smitten by Aziraphale.

And weird as it was, there they were now, after sex. Crowley felt his cheeks flush at the thought. Not about sex, he had thought plenty about sex, that didn’t make him blush. But the feeling around it. It was Aziraphale, his angel, and he couldn’t be happier. He was overwhelmed with trust, intimacy and affection. Their kisses started so soft, like anything that came from Aziraphale. As they arrived in the apartment Aziraphale shared with a couple flatmates, they were so inebriated with each other, they could only come up, hushed laughs to not wake up the above mentioned flatmates in their respective bedrooms. Clumsy undressing each other, taking sight of each other bodies for the first time, touching each other with so much tenderness After everything, they slept side by side. And now he was awake and it felt real. Crowley felt like a twelve year old fool. He felt amazed and safe.

As the minutes passed, the light that came from the window beside the chair started getting brighter, the sun making its appearance. Inside the room, the sunlight took the shape of the window, tiny squares laying over the opposite wall and the bed. Aziraphale was lightened by it, his white skin now in an orange tone. His hips partially covered by the blanket, but crowley could see tiny nail marks on the sides. He thought to himself he had to keep his nails shorter and clean now. Aziraphale’s back was completely exposed, his left shoulder blade making a shadow. He was so beautiful like this. Crowley knew Aziraphale was insecure about his back acne, and while in his early teens Crowley would be too, now he was so fond of it. He knew it was like that now because of the hormones, but it was this little things that made Aziraphale human, real. Just like his stretch marks in his butt that he only saw the night before but already was eager to trace with his fingers, and tell Azira how beautiful they were.

  
Aziraphale was facing the wall, his light yellow hair curling in many directions in a fuzzy mess. His hair was so soft. Crowley always wanted to curl it around his fingers, let the other boy lay his head in his legs and do it while they had some of their arguments. He thought that maybe now they could. They could go to the park near the bookstore for a picnic. Lay together beneath the shadow of a three, he could take a nap while Aziraphale read some chapters of some old book.

  
As he was planning if he should buy a cake for the picnic, Aziraphale started stirring, stretching his limbs and yawning. He then turned, pulling the blanket over his body, opening his eyes just a little, adjusting to the sunlight.

“Good morning, angel!”

“Morning” He brought his hand to his eye, rubbing the remaining sleepness. Then he looked at Crowley “Hey, is this my cardigan?”

“Well, you stole all the sheets to yourself, I had no other choice really” Crowley answered in a fake resentment, just to tease his boyfriend.

“Sorry. The cardigan looks nice on you, though.” Aziraphale apologized with a tiny smile,

Boyfriend.  
Oops?

Except, they could be, couldn’t they?

He let the word linger in his mind a little while, as aziraphale sat on the bed and searched for his glasses on the nightstand. Maybe it was too soon to call themselves boyfriends, but Crowley had no intention of letting it be a one night stand, and Aziraphale didn’t seem to have either. Perhaps…

“Angel, say, if we were to go on another date…” Crowley was testing the other’s reactions, even if there was no regret visible in Aziraphale face, maybe he was not ready to take this thing ahead. Aziraphale nodded timidly. “... would you mind if I told people that you’re my boyfriend?”

“People? Which people?”

“Well, people! I don’t know! The waiter!” Crowley shrugged, that was _not the point_. Why must Aziraphale make things so hard?

“Waiter? You want to take me to dinner? Because if you are, I know a place that--”

“For G- S- No one’s sake, Aziraphale, I just want to know if you want to be my boyfriend!” Crowley was standing up now, his hands restless, now pulling his hair back, like he always did when he was nervous. But it’s not like he was nervous, not at all.

Aziraphale slowly stood up, letting go of the blankets, coming to take Crowley’s hands in his. The blonde was calm, his eyes amused. He looked up the few centimeters that separated them. “My dear boy, being your boyfriend is all I want right now.” Crowley’s face got warm. He snuggled his head in Aziraphale’s neck, hiding his blush.

Aziraphale’s scent was inebriating this close, and so good even in the early morning. Crowley felt lips touching his temple, then the tip of his ears, so lightly and soft. Aziraphale brought his hand around his neck, now, making them face each other.  
“What about you, can I call _you_ my boyfriend?” His knowing smile was teasing Crowley.

“Yeah.” Crowley touched his boyfriend’s cheeks, bringing their faces closer to put a kiss over his mouth. “Please do.”


End file.
